


The Weight of Space

by dailymantra



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Endgame, Gen, I have.....opinions of certain endgame scenes, I just wanted to make things different, Other, budapest friends, look - Freeform, there may be endgame spoilers here sorta, there will be more, this is one of them, tragic adventures in spaaaaace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-18 16:16:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18703090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dailymantra/pseuds/dailymantra
Summary: **Endgame Things**So there was a certain scene in Endgame between Clint and Natasha that I...I just need to tweak.SOMETIMES a character doesn't need to die to have a completed arc. Sometimes, when all they do is sacrifice to do good, they can look for other options beyond "hmm, better kill myself to save the universe." If Wanda's toaster boyfriend gets a pass, so does fucking Natasha Romanoff.





	The Weight of Space

  

 

> **No one mentioned how crushing space was.** Not Bruce, not Nebula. Not even the raccoon.

Natasha had felt the weight even before they'd left Earth.

_Left Earth_. There's a thought.

She lifted her eyes, chin rested on her hands, and took it in again. Vormir. Purple skies and endless planes. Just enough oxygen that it had felt like breathing through a straw for most of that climb up the mountain. So alien it made her skin itch. But the weight on her shoulders now, that was familiar as ever.

Clint was still pacing. A part of her wondered if he did it just because he knew it irked her. Pace, mutter, turn, pace, mutter, turn. Taking his brain for a walk to help the thinking process. As though it wasn't already an easy decision. Nat had turned the idea over in her head only once before it was decided. Because, when it came to _those_ kinds of choices...well, she made them easier than most.

She allowed herself a glance over her shoulder. Red Skull--of all things, of all people--hovered silently off to the side. It would be Steve's opposite waiting for her at the doors of Hell. At the end of it all. Vaguely she wondered if it was hard to breathe through a nose like  _that_. No nose. He did have nice bone structure, though. 

Clint paced into view and paused. Their eyes met and Nat couldn't look away quick enough. He uncrossed an arm and thrust a warning finger at her.

"I know that look."

"You don't. I don't have any _looks_." Nat pressed her chin into her hands again and kept her face placid. She had, in fact, one-hundred and nine distinct looks, but whichever Clint thought she was wearing was wrong. This one, the one made on the alien planet for deciding the ultimatum presented to them by a floating Nazi from the 40s, was a brand new look with a limited use. 

"That's the look that comes before 'don't worry Clint, they're out of bullets, I counted' or 'it's just another consulate, how bad could security be?'" Clint's voice pitched up to the tone usually reserved for reading Winnie the Pooh (with all the voices) to Cooper or Nate.

"Is that what I sound like to you?" Nat quirked an eyebrow.

"You're not doing it."

Nat straightened. "It has to be me--"

"There's another way." He distanced himself from Red Skull, lowering his voice. "There's always another way."

All she could offer was that well practiced placating smile. "Not this time. This is our one shot. We mess this up, we don't get another chance."

"That's what we thought before. And now here we are." Clint gestured grandly around the windy mountaintop. "You know what, I think I did a better job sounding like Natasha Romanoff."

Nat stood. There was the weight of space again; the crushing pressure of it pressing down on her and making her knees weak. "This isn't an argument, Clint. It's a choice and it's already been made." It took everything inside her to meet his level gaze. "I want this." _I need_ this.

"Bull." Clint started to pace again. "Bullshit. You don't want this."

"Think about it."

"It seems like I'm the only one doing that."

Nat caught his arm and for the first time since they'd been presented with the cost of the Soul Stone he stilled, truly and wholly stilled. "I am thinking about it. I'm thinking about how this is bigger than the both of us. This isn't about giving up something, it's about getting a second chance. You get to see Laura again. Cooper, Nate, Lila...they have the chance to get their father back."

"Not the same man they knew." His whisper was torn away by the wind.

"I'm not finished." Nat found his hand and squeezed it. "It's about be getting a chance to make amends. To rest." It was so hard to breathe. "I'm tired, Clint. I don't know how much more I can do to clear the red from my ledger. It seems endless. But now I have the chance to do more than make things right. My life can mean more than it ever has."

"You think your life doesn't matter?" The hurt in Clint's voice cut deep. Nat dropped his hand or he pulled it away, she couldn't tell which, not with the pain dominating her chest.

"That's not what I meant."

"Look, I get it. More than most, I get it." Clint rubbed his chin and settled his shoulders. "But that's the thing, Nat. You've done so much of the legwork just to do, what? Throw it away for another cause? No. Not this time. This time you get to live with all the good you've done. You get to have the life that always got taken away." He closed the gap between them and placed both hands on her shoulders. For the first time since they'd arrived on this planet, the weight lifted from them. "You saved me. More times than I can count."

"I wouldn't be here...I wouldn't be me without you, Barton. This goes both ways and you know it." 

"Right, but here's the thing." The shove came out of nowhere and ripped the air from Nat's lungs. She staggered backwards, catching herself just before she hit the ground. Clint started for the ledge, arms open in a wide shrug. "I don't care. I get to save you this time."

"Dammit," Nat hissed. She found her footing again quickly and charged Clint. His eyes widened as he turned and bolted for the cliff. _Not fast enough, Barton._  

They hit the ground with a thud and a weary sigh from Red Skull. Clint threw a wide elbow, which Nat caught and pinned over his head. With her free hand, she drove a stinger into his side. His muscles seized with the electric shock and his jaw clenched. 

"Cheap," he ground out between teeth.

The corner of Nat's mouth tipped up. "When did we establish rules?"

Clint groaned. "It's called sportsmanship."

A gasp escaped Nat as he flipped her over onto her back. Ground was always harder than she remembered.

"Don't get up," Clint said, getting to his feet.

Nat grabbed his ankle and pulled. He landed on his knees, hard. "Ditto." Twisting, she whipped a heel into his side and Clint crumpled.

They lay next to each other for a few laboured breaths. Through watering eyes, Nat watched the purple sky fade to a dusky black. She'd never been good with astrology, but the unfamiliar stars made her dizzy. 

Drawing herself up onto one elbow, she observed Clint. He held his side, watching her right back.

"How much harder am I going to have to hit you?" she asked. 

"You remember Vietnam?"

"Vaguely."

"That scene at the bar?" Clint set himself upright with a grunt. "We were a couple of the rocks. Did that whole thing to get the room key from the weapons dealer."

"The Champagne Left Hook." Nat nodded.

"Harder than that."

A laugh shook itself out of Nat. It faded quickly as it came. She turned her gaze towards the cliff. Towards the inevitable.

"You still think you've got dibs on all the big heroic moments, huh?" Clint bent a knee into his chest, sitting so casually at the end of the world. Suddenly they were back at the farm, sitting by the pond on a warm summer evening watching the kids splash each other. It was a comfort Nat only saw in Clint when he was with them, Laura next to him, keeping him grounded. He needed that; needed them. 

"You have to let me do this." She found the strength to face him again. It was getting harder to do. "You have too much to go home to. You've made a lot of promises to a lot of people."

"I've also hurt a lot of people." Clint rested his arms on his knees. "I don't know how to come back from that."

"Of course you do." Nat prayed he didn't notice the break in her voice. "You learned from the best."

It was his turn to give a cold chuckle. "Sure. Also made her a lot of promises."

"So make one more. Go home. Do good."

Clint bowed his head. He was quiet for a long while before getting to his feet and offering Nat his hand. "You made your mind up the minute we got here, huh?"

"Before we got on the ship." She let him help her up. "Whatever it takes."

"Right," he said with a resigned sigh and a look at Red Skull. "The thing we love. Isn't that always the way." 

"Every time." Nat's smile was small and gone in a flash.

They stepped towards the edge, Clint refusing to drop Nat's hand. He held onto her like he planned to keep her from jumping. He wouldn't dare, would he? She cast a sideways glance at him. Was he also finding it hard to breathe up here? Didn't he realize it would be better back home? That if he let her do this then they'd be even--she would have finally made up for all the bad and cancelled out her stain left on those she loved most. It was such an easy choice...they were always easy choices. Whenever it came to Clint, it was always easy...

She frowned. Every time. Her and Clint on an even keel, no matter what. Giving and taking in perfect equilibrium. This would only end with one of them having to let go--unless it didn't. Unless the natural order of the universe was balance. And it had to be, because if it wasn't then what was the point. If there was no longer a line to walk then Thanos had really won and there was no going back. 

"Hey, Skeletor." Both Clint and Red Skull started as Nat addressed the hovering Halloween decoration. "This stone, it's a soul for a soul?"

"In exchange for the power of the stone, you must lose that which you love." He gave a solemn nod and confirmed, "A soul for a soul."

Nat met Clint's eyes again. "That sound vague enough to you?"

"Sounds pretty specific. One of us is going over that cliff."

"How did you ever get anything done without me?"

Clint squinted at her.

"Everything I have now is because of you. You found the good in here." Nat pressed a hand to her chest and clasped Clint's with her other. "I've already traded a soul for a soul. I've already lost everything I loved and fought tooth and nail to get it back and more. And I know you've done the same. I've watched you fall and I've watched you rise and I know what's in here." She pressed her hand to Clint's chest. "We don't trade lives. Not us. We earn them."

"Nat, I don't--"

"Think about it. I give up you, you give up me...alone, we're a zero sum. We're nothing without each other, without the lives we've made together."

Clint squinted at her, at the abyss, gears turning. 

Nat squeezed his hand. "I didn't come this far to lose anything."

"So what's the plan?"

"There isn't one." Her smile was shy, hopeful. "There's just a leap of faith."

"You must choose!" Red Skull boomed from behind them. "A trade must be made."

"Buddy, shut up," Clint said. "We've already traded everything we got." To Natasha he said, "You think we should both..." He mimed diving over the edge into the thick clouds below.

"Yeah, basically." She should probably sound more sure of herself. "I mean think about it; we're matched, Barton. There's no you without me, no me without you."

"You think it's that easy?"

"No. But I do know Thanos threw his own daughter off this thing and I can't imagine him loving anything more than he loves himself. Between you and me, I think we make up more than enough soul for one lousy rock."

"One collective soul for a soul." 

"We've traded a lot more for a lot less." With Clint's hand still in hers, Nat stepped up to the edge of the cliff, of everything. It was a long way down. She lowered her voice, "I can do it alone, if you think it won't work."

Clint twined his fingers between hers. He understood. She knew he understood because he murmured, "fuck." Nat's heart staggered in her chest, the roaring wind around them fading behind the rush of blood in her ears. If she was wrong about this...well, there was a pretty good chance of that. But wasn't certain.  

As much as Nat wanted to see the Grim Reaper's reaction to that, she couldn't tear her eyes from the abyss. A soul for a soul. She knew all about those kinds of demands, the seemingly unbreakable ultimatum. Too bad for the rule-makers, the universe never works in absolutes. And that little smudgy grey area was where Nat always did her best work. 

"You're sure about this?" Clint asked, because of course he was reading her mind.

"Yeah." She nodded, uncertainly. "As sure as I am about everything else."

"Good enough for me."

"A sacrifice must be made." Red Skull's voice was closer, louder. 

All Nat could see was Clint. She wrapped her arms around him and he held her tight. 

"See you on the other side," she whispered. 

They pushed off the edge as one and fell. Nat's stomach scrambled up her throat; her eyes watered blindingly. Her fingers dug into Clint and she braced for the shattering impact of reality.

 

* * *

  

 

>   **The first inhale was water.**

Nat burst upright, head swimming. She sputtered and gasped, splashing to the edge of the pool of icy liquid. It was salty like the ocean but something it her gut told her it wasn't water, at least not as she knew it. 

The first word was shaky.

Her voice was scratchy and desperate. "Barton?"

Her eyes burned. No, her legs too. And her arms and her throat and she tried again, "Barton?"

She forced herself up onto unreliable feet. "Clint!"

Nothing but the wind ripping around her, tearing her words from her mouth and stealing them away. Nothing but endless sandy dunes around her and bleary violet sky overhead. Nothing but her own heartbeat hammering through her as her limbs shook, her fingers refusing to uncurl lest she drop precious cargo.

She was off-axis. Stumbling and scrambling, sand and grit digging into her flesh until she reached the crest of the nearest dune. Looking out over the expanse she tried to steady her heartbeat.  _Think_. _Compartmentalize and get your shit together_. She'd messed up. She'd ruined it and it had cost her everything. Because there was no playing a broken system. Nat swiped her arm over her eyes to clear them of tears--it was just the wind...

"Nat?"

_Not the wind_.

She all but tumbled down the dune in her haste. Nat hit the pool at the bottom and there he was, floating just on the surface. Clint turned his head as she approached and tried her name again.

"Nat?"

"I'm here. We're both here. We made it."

She helped him upright and then found herself in his arms again. He held her just as tight, a coarse laugh rumbling up from inside him.

"Wow. I didn't see that panning out."

"Me either." Nat sniffed and leaned back to get a look at him--maybe confirm that he wasn't just an illusion. "But it did."

"The stone?"

She opened her hand. A small chunk of glowing orange rock. Clint lifted a hand from the water and unfurled his fingers. A second small piece rested in his palm. For a heart-stopping moment Nat worried that despite everything they'd somehow managed to ruin the stone. 

Then, they watched the stones shudder and nudge towards each other. Instinctively, Nat pressed her hand against Clint's. A burst of bright light and when Clint removed his hand the stone rested whole in Nat's palm. For a long moment it was only their syncopated breathing that filled the air.

"Ya know, if I'm being honest, I was kinda looking forward to the extra elbow room on the ride home," Clint said. 

Nat tucked the stone away, not quite wanting to let go of it but too worried about catching Banner-esque radiation to hold onto it too closely. "Too bad, you're going to have to put up with me just a little longer."

Making their way up the dune and away from the mountain, back to the ship, Nat felt the steady weight of space returning to her shoulders. It made her steps heavy and buried them deep into the shifting sand. It was somewhat comforting, to have that constant pressure return. It was replaced, suddenly, by a hand on her shoulder. Clint squeezed, keeping his head down but a subtle smile on his lips. 

_Whatever it takes_. That was easy. It was always  _whatever it takes_ between the two of them. Sacrifice what they loved? Done. Done every single day and fought for with the same breath. They had nothing left to give; they were souls intertwined. 

In Thanos's hand the stones felt like absolutes; the ultimate unfeeling enforcers of balance in the universe. And maybe they were, but they were living proof that the universe wasn't a scale built to measure 50/50. Thanos thought one thing could never exist in tandem with the other; that in order to make the universe a better place, sacrifices must be made. He knew nothing about sacrifices. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton were ready to give whatever was left of them and did, as always. Maybe that would satisfy Thanos. But it wasn't the willingness to fall on the sword--Nat would've done that for anyone else. No, they're sacrifice was a deeper atonement--one made to each other. 

They had given the universe what they had given to each other. A second chance, a life worth living, a hope for tomorrow, a soul stoked and nurtured by another. And in return the universe had seen fit to gift them what Thanos had taken by force. Nat had always seen the good and the evil and hoped that there was enough grey for her to find her place between the two. 

"Hey, when you got up this morning did you picture yourself on an alien planet?" Clint asked. 

"I was just happy the toaster was working after the raccoon decided to take it apart and put it back together again," Nat replied with a shrug. 

"We lead interesting lives."

"Eh, don't worry about it. I give us ten more good years, at most."


End file.
